Today my husband had a gastroscopy, which is an endoscopic look at the insides of his esophagus, stomach and intestines. As you can imagine, something of this scale takes place in a hospital; the very same hospital where Nina was born, as luck would have it.

That hospital holds nothing but memories of Nina for me. We took our birth classes there, had our version attempted there and finally gave birth there. It was the first time that we’d been back there since February 18th and it brought back all kinds of memories for me. I remember the excited yet scared and nervous anticipation I felt that morning as we drove through the dark city to the hospital. The way the front desk woman looked at me with big eyes and asked if I was alright. Waiting in the registration area and telling the woman who checked us in that we were going to have a baby girl that day. The walk down the same hallway that we walked just two and a half short months ago.

It was very powerful to go back to the hospital, this time carrying our sweet baby with us. As I toted little Nina around the hospital with people cooing over her, I realized for the thousandth time that she is for real. We returned to the hospital for the first time no longer anticipating the arrival of our girl, but basking in the glory of her. We’ve finally got what we always wanted so much.

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